head. “They lured Rafe to the folly at Brixton Park, presumably with the intent of killing him. They didn’t realize he’d have his sisters with him, and that they are every bit as skilled with a knife as Lord Stone here.” He inclined his head toward Rafe to indicate he meant the true earl.
“Are they all right?” Anne asked, shocked. “Selina and Beatrix, I mean. I don’t care about the men who were working for my godfather.”
“Yes, they’re fine,” Harry said. “And most of the men will be able to stand trial.”
Anne looked down at her godfather. “He was mad.” She clutched Rafe more tightly.
Harry raked his hand through his auburn hair. “I need to find the coachman and that last brigand.”
“I’ll help,” North said, and Anthony joined in.
A coach stopped on the road, which was perhaps a quarter mile distant. “Rafe?”
Anne recognized Selina’s voice.
“Here!” Rafe called.
A few minutes later, Selina, Beatrix, and Jane arrived, the latter of whom rushed forward and enveloped Anne in a tight hug. Though her head hurt, Anne embraced her sister with a mix of relief and overwhelming love.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Jane said through tears. Suddenly, Anne was crying too, and the pent-up emotion of the evening spilled from her as she held on to her sister.
It was several minutes before they separated. Jane wiped her face and sucked in a sharp breath as her gaze fell on Ludlow. “Is that…?”
“My godfather, yes,” Anne said. “It’s a long story that I will gladly tell you later. Suffice to say that I am not sorry he is dead.” She suddenly felt exhausted to her very bones. The earth began to tilt. Rafe swept her into his arms before she fell.
She closed her eyes as he carried her to the coach and placed her inside. She clasped his hand. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”
He pressed a kiss to her wrist before he climbed inside and lifted her onto his lap. “Darling, I am never letting you go.”
The first rays of dawn speared over the horizon as Rafe stared down at his sleeping betrothed. They’d come back to Brixton Park, where he’d carried Anne upstairs to a room Ripley had prepared for her.
Rafe had no idea how the rest of the party had gone, but assumed London would be abuzz tomorrow with the story of Ludlow Mallory and his band of brigands. He didn’t care about any of it, just that Anne was safe and whole.
He wiped his hand over his face and leaned back in the chair beside her bed, closing his eyes. Exhaustion weighted him, but his mind was too busy to sleep. Everything would be simpler now that Mallory was dead. No one would contest his claim to the earldom, at least.
Would it really be simple though?
He couldn’t change the fact that everyone knew about his past. He might never be accepted. Hell, perhaps the Committee for Privileges might decide that Lorcan would be the better earl. Rafe wasn’t sure he could bring himself to lament the loss of the title if that came to pass. Again, it only mattered that Anne was here with him and that their future lay before them.
“Rafe?”
He opened his eyes and bolted forward. “Yes?”
Anne winced as she blinked at him from the bed. “This is the worst headache I’ve ever had.”
One of Mallory’s brigands had hit her pretty damned hard. Rafe wasn’t sure which one, and that was for the best since Rafe probably would have done the same to him in return.
He moved to sit beside her on the bed and gently kissed her forehead. “It will be for at least a day or so, I’m afraid.”
“You’re speaking from experience?”
“I’ve suffered a blow like that a time or two,” he admitted.
She took his hand between hers. “You will never suffer again. Not while I draw breath.”
“My fierce avenging angel.” He laughed softly.
“I told you that you’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
“Lucky for me. I’d hate to be in opposition to you.” He shuddered, and she laughed.
Lifting her hand to her head, she grimaced. “Ow, don’t make me laugh.”
“I’ll try not to. At least not until you’re healed.”
“When will you officially become the earl?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
She looked about the room. “Aren’t we still at Brixton Park?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask Ripley. He’s on the Committee for Privileges. He’ll tell you.”
Rafe chuckled. “It’s the middle of the bloody night, Anne.”
“After what would have been one of the best balls of the Season and is now legendary given